


In Tokyo When the Thermostat's Broken and the Chills Set In

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: British TV Celebrities RPF, Chef RPF, Hairy Bikers RPF
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Nervousness, Touching, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 05:57:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16550234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: After a night out filming in Tokyo for their Asian Adventure programme - after consuming much beer and many Japanese kebabs, and singing a great deal of karaoke - the pair retire to their hotel room to watch a little TV and rest up in bed. As best friends, Dave is lying in Si's arms like it's the most normal thing in the world. And, up until today, it was. But now, he isn't so sure.





	In Tokyo When the Thermostat's Broken and the Chills Set In

The lads had been out on the town. Well, sort of - they'd been out on the town in _Tokyo_ , of all places - but it was much of the _same_ , as the pair had commented to camera towards the end of the night. There had been _karaoke_ and _kebabs_ , the bright lights, and there had been lashings of beer at the izakayas, which Si and Dave had simply _had_ to consume - they had wanted to portray to viewers a genuine experience of having a night out in the Japanese capital and that, of course, meant getting a little tiddled with the camera crew and some willing local guests.

Dave could still taste the skewered yakitori in his mouth. His tastebuds tingled from the sticky savouriness, though his tongue was _soon_ to tingle again - but, this time, with the taste of temptation.

It wasn't as late as you might imagine: it was around half eleven. The Japanese liked to start their drinking sessions early - almost as soon as work had finished - and could find themselves in the bars until the wee hours of the morning. The bikers, on the other hand, needed their beauty sleep - they would be filming in the ancient city of Kyoto in the morning for their latest series - the Hairy Bikers' Asian Adventure. However, it was far from time to be dozing off just yet.

The pair were in bed, winding down for the evening, taking in a few of the televisual delights on offer on the cable TV in their hotel room. They were in bed and, it would come as no surprise to anyone who knew them, that Dave was in _Si's_ bed.

Dave had always been sure of the fact that he and Si were close - the very point itself now being made by how they were lying on the _same_ bed when there was _another_ in the room, their dressing gown-clad bodies draped over one another and intertwined loosely. They were closer than _most_. But it didn't bother him. Or more precisely, it _hadn't_. Up until now.

He would have been a liar to say that he'd never mulled over their closeness before, because he _had_ , but the thought of it had never irked him before - possibly because it had never been brought up in public before by anyone _other_ than their wives. Most of their film crew had been working with them for years and were used to the way they behaved, but one new lad had been most shocked by the way they had been so comfortable undressing in front of one another for the sumo wrestling segment they had filmed earlier on in the day and had felt the need, for some reason, to make a big deal out of it.

"You two act like you've seen one another naked hundreds of times," he had cooed.

"Well... yes," Myers had replied, shyly. "We've known each other a long time and we're best friends." It was a matter of fact statement. At this point, Dave had felt that he'd had nothing to hide.

"No, I think it's fantastic - your relationship I mean," the young cameraman had told him. "Look - you have matching tattoos and everything!"

"Yeah," Dave had laughed, nervously. Why, after being dressed in the traditional sumo mawashi, did he suddenly feel more _naked_ than before? What was the crew member trying to say, _exactly_? That this was not a _normal_ way to act around your friend?

The chef could have retaliated more aggressively, more _defensively_ , but it just wasn't his style - and, besides which, it would only have further gone on to stir the situation - after all, people do say the words 'he protesteth too much.' And David simply didn't have anything to _protest_ about - it was perfectly _natural_ for two men to touch, to hug, to kiss - and to be so _comfortable_ in one another's company - _wasn't_ it? However, if he'd agreed with all of that, then why did he feel so _unsure_ all of a sudden, rubbing his shoulder gently, _soothingly_ \- the shoulder where he had his Ché Guevara tattoo - the tattoo that he shared with Si - with such a sense of self awareness.

He shuffled up the bed and further nestled himself into the crook of Simon's armpit. They did this a lot, if truth be told. But it was always so bloody _cold_ in these hotel rooms, he tried to reason with himself, and they _needed_ to cuddle together for warmth.

The suite, in spite of its luxurious furnishings, was becoming quite chilly and the pair of them had tried to fiddle with the thermostat earlier but to no avail - Japan was famous for its technology and these two middle-aged men were most certainly _not_ famous for the aptitude needed when it _came_ to said technology. How many bikers did it take to change a lightbulb or, indeed, turn up a radiator? More than two, _evidently_. And it was far too late to call anyone from reception. Yes, it was an all-night service, but it would have been so damned rude to call someone up at this hour. "Excuses, excuses," he said to himself, silently, trying to rid the thoughts which plagued his mind.

And when Simon shrugged him off for a second to reach over to the bedside table for a drink of his ice-cold Asahi beer, straight from the mini-bar, was Dave merely mourning the momentarily loss of heat, or was he mourning something _more_ than that?

"Sorry mate," King said, sipping from the bottle, "Are you really cold now? I'll make it quick," he glugged back a third of the liquid within a few seconds, so he could put the vessel back on the nightstand and resume in his duty to his darling friend. He soon had his arm wrapped back around Myers, stronger and tighter than ever, clearly enjoying the feel of having the older man resting upon him.

They had been watching and giggling at some godawful Japanese quiz, with terrible presenting, terrible singing and dancing, and some girls wearing _incredibly_ short skirts. Dave had found that he'd been far more interested in Si and what Si had to say about it all than he was in the skirts. He'd never really given all of this much thought before, but today something was _different_ , and it was like the ramblings of that new cameraman of theirs had flicked a switch inside of him - suddenly he was noticing _everything_ and, it was like for the first time in his life, he was seeing what was _really_ there.

The taller man had tired of the dreadful gameshow and, flicking through the channels, had settled upon a poorly dubbed Steven Seagal film. Those films were all the same, but they always held good entertainment value, even when you didn't know what was going on and the lead character sounded as though he'd been dubbed by a Japanese dalek.

Simon placed the remote to the side of him and now his right hand was free to once again caress and stroke the arm of his partner, who was resting to his other side. David didn't care for these sorts of macho, martial arts films, but Si liked them and - granted - there was nothing better on. Si was quite a 'blokey' bloke, Dave acknowledged - the notion occurring to him more so than _ever_ at the moment, given the present circumstance - and, so, when he really sat back and thought about it, it made the impending scenario all the more intriguing by the minute.

"Kingy?" Dave blurted, feeling as though he would burst.

"Hmm?" came the reply, half-interested - Seagal had just defused a time bomb and had jumped off the roof of a ten-storey building and landed in a garbage truck.

"What--," he stammered, "What are we, Si? What _is_ this?"

"What's what?" came the baffled reply.

"What's _this_?" Myers asked him, slipping a hand into the opening of his dressing gown and tenderly grazing fingers over a section of bare chest. "What are _we_?" he repeated. "Are we--"

"Dude," Si was a little taken aback. "We... We are whatever we _are_ , man. If this is what we are, then _this_ is what we are."

"But what if I ever wanted _more_ than this?"

"You _want_ more than this?" Si broached, tentatively.

"I don't know," Dave shook his head, feeling thoroughly mixed-up inside - and every _single_ drop of the confusion evident in his words. "I just don't know. I feel so far from home. I feel so far from Liliana."

"I--," Si choked, "I could never say 'no' to you, mate - you know that, don't you? So don't do anything you might... you know, _regret_."

"But I love you, Si..." he whined.

"I don't think _that's_ ever been up for debate. I don't think it's ever been in doubt how much we love one another, but _this_ \- this is something else."

"Is it... _though_?" Dave whispered, and the hoarse sound sent a chill along Simon's spine.

There was a brief moment of quiet and the pair of them had a split second, but what _seemed_ like an eternity, to contemplate their next move. Dave's hand had progressed from merely feeling and appreciating Si's chest to an altogether more deliberate action, twiddling his chest hairs around his fingers and then slowly uncurling them, before repeating the motion over and over.

For so long, he managed to occupy himself and his insatiable urge to touch Simon simply by doing _this_ \- but, by the time that the brief moment spoken of had come to an end, so had the older cook's patience; his nimble chef's fingers, usually more used to chopping vegetables quickly and finely, were now to be put to a far blunter and more primitive use. And so he swiped, with those fingers, the belt from Si's robe, allowing it to fall open with both sides of the towelling material flopping either side of him on the bed.

It was revealed to Myers that King was already hard and, as the dressing gown slipped away, his erection sprang upwards and towards him in one mighty swoop. For the first time in a long time, Dave saw that Si was blushing - so rarely did Si ever get embarrassed anymore in front of him that Dave was somehow quite surprised.

But, this was something they had never discussed and, now that they _had_ discussed it, Simon had gotten hard - over _him_ and over the thought of them being together and doing _things_ with one another. He supposed it was acceptable that he was embarrassed - after all, he still didn't actually know if Myers felt the same or if he had found himself having the _same_ reaction. But, _yes_ \- Dave certainly _had_ felt that reaction - but other emotions he was experiencing were so severely and utterly conflicted - _still_.

"Are you sure?" Si gasped, looking to the ceiling and trying to ignore the fact that his friend of so many years was now clambering upon him.

Dave was anything _but_ sure. He nervously reached forwards and wrapped a hand around the swollen organ, revelling in the way that it pulsed and throbbed in his grasp. He rolled his grip up and down along the shaft in an extremely uncertain manner.

Despite the countless times he had done this to himself, it was difficult to gauge whether what he was doing would have any effect on Simon at all. But then he heard the bearded man groan and throw his head back against the pillow - a tiny noise which would throw out whatever determination was left in David's mind to proceed, and would produce a feeling which surged in his gut and made him so _fearful_ of what would come next that he almost felt like fleeing to the hills. His digits faltered and dropped down onto Simon's thigh. And, there, he could feel his partner gently trembling under his touch.

"You must be freezing, Si," Myers realised, "I didn't _think_ \- god, you must think I'm so selfish." It was his get-out clause; he was terrified of going further. But, in honesty, he was sure that Simon's shakes were not down to the temperature alone - he was scared too. Dave closed the dressing gown again and chucked the belt over the top in a loose knot to keep the garment fastened.

"Yeah, it's cold, dude," came a chuckle. "But I was getting a little hot under the collar there, mate - let me tell you." They both giggled.

"Maybe a little _too_ hot _too_ fast," Dave suggested, quietly.

The bespectacled biker dismounted the other man and lied beside him once again, and Simon held him and brought him closer.

"Perhaps... But _warm_ is still good," King told him, with a smile. "Warm feels _really_ good right now."

Dave grinned as he snuggled up to Si, their bodies firmly pressed against one another. "Keep me warm, Kingy - you sexpot," he sniggered, allowing his head to rest on Simon's chest. "You're bloody burning up!"

"Well, it's no wonder, _is_ it?" he laughed, squeezing him hard.


End file.
